“Faradeane,” replied Olivia. “Do you know it?”
Bertie shook his head.
Olivia looked at him half-curiously.
“I fancied,” she said, “that you looked as if you knew him.”
For a second, for so short a time that the pause was imperceptible, Bertie hesitated; then he shook his head.
CHAPTER III.
“TO KNOW HER IS TO LOVE HER.”
“Faradeane?” replied Bertie. “I never heard the name before.”
Nothing more was said on the subject. It was dropped as if by the tacit consent of both; which showed plainly how much they were both affected by the incident; for what would have been more natural than that they should discuss the appearance and manner of this stranger who had come so suddenly and mysteriously into their neighborhood?
Olivia could scarcely have told how much, or explained why, his appearance had affected her. She saw him for a few minutes only, he had spoken about half-a-dozen words, and yet she felt that if she were never to see him again she should never forget the strange expression of the dark, sorrowful eyes, or the peculiar music of the deep, grave voice.
Mesmerism is a recognized fact; and if she had known anything of it Olivia might easily have explained the sensation she felt as that resulting from mesmerization. The dark eyes had seemed to penetrate to her inmost heart, the voice to have set up an echo within her ears which should never fade.